Tag Archives: antibiotics

It’s time to think about implant sizing! YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! [as I type this, I imagine children across America are cheering with delight–because the only thing better than Christmas coming early is that annoying girl with the blog getting her damn breast implants already!]

But seriously. It really is time for me to start thinking about what size I want my implants to be. No pressure, though. I’ll only be stuck with them for ten to fifteen years.

On Thursday morning I had a tissue expander fill with Dr. Festekjian. He filled me up with 75 ccs on the left–yowza, slow down there, Dr. F! No but please don’t, 75 ccs was awesome, thank you. I am now at 525 ccs on the left and 550 ccs on the right. We’re almost even!!!!

At next week’s fill with Maria, I will get 75 ccs on the left and 50 ccs on the right, putting me at 600 ccs on each side. I’m sure what you all want to know is what cup size is that?!

Yes, I’d like to know that, too. So this morning I started to investigate.

The world of tissue expanders and breast implants is terrifying. I have emerged from the deep, dark pit of the Interwebz even more confused than when I started.

This is what I have discovered: I have two Natrelle Style 133SX tissue expanders. They are each 14 cm wide. According to the Natrelle catalog, they have a height of 12 cm and a projection of 7.1 cm and are considered “extra-projection range.” What does that all mean? No idea.

At this point, I am abandoning the science of it until I can talk with Dr. Festekjian, Maria or Jeani about it in person next week. Instead, I am going to play a kind of twisted form of dress up: the Breast Implant Rice Test! Or, in my case, The Breast Implant Israeli Couscous Test!

A few months ago, Jeani explained this test to me but I brushed it off as pretty much ridiculous. However I came across it again today and decided to just try it. 7/8 cup of Israeli couscous and a knee-high nylon sock (sorry Mom) in hand, I ventured into my room.

If “gummy bears” are the Prada of the implant world and silicone is the Coach, then Israeli couscous and nylons must be the Walmart brand.

Why 7/8 cup of Israeli couscous? Well, the handy little chart from www.justbreastimplants.com said that 1 cup of rice was roughly equivalent to 236 ccs, while 3/4 cup was about 177 ccs. Since my tissue expanders can hold a maximum of 750 ccs and my right expander is currently at 550 ccs, I wanted to experiment with about 200 ccs…so 7/8 cup of couscous sounded accurate.

Here’s the results–keep in mind I only tried the test on my right breast, since my left tissue expander is still a few ccs smaller:

Now obviously it looks a bit awkward with the rest of the nylon sticking out, but the test was more successful than I expected.

Yet I still don’t know how I feel about the size potential! The fact is that tissue expanders are shaped differently than breast implants. I need to find out from Dr. Festekjian what kind of implant he plans to use. Right now, when I look at myself head-on, my chest seems to be very filled out; but when I see myself from the side, it still seems very small. I guess this has to do with the tissue expander being wide?

Perhaps next weekend I will try the rice test again, but on both sides (since they’ll finally be the same size again!)

Can anyone speak to their experience with implant sizing?

In other news, I’m sick–but don’t worry, it’s (for once) NOT related to my tissue expanders! On Tuesday I started to develop a sore throat, and by Wednesday afternoon I could barely talk. I stayed home sick from work on Thursday. I felt AWFUL…couldn’t swallow because my throat was so sore, couldn’t sleep…finally saw a doctor on Friday and I’m on antibiotics now. I know, right–more antibiotics?! Ha. Let’s hope I don’t get sick for years after this, because all that nasty little bacteria is going to be SO antibiotic-resistant!

I’m feeling much better today. My mom is coming home today from Yosemite. I heard my dad on the phone with her yesterday, remarking about how I was a horrible patient. (Note to Dad: Yeah, yeah, stick it in your ear. Who do you think I got it from anyway? Plus, here’s a direct quote from “Jewish as a Second Language“, the book you gave me to read: “…should illness or injury strike you, it’s your duty to stay sick as long as you can. Keep using those crutches. Prop them up where everyone can see them. Flash that sling. Enlarge that bandage. Who knows when you’ll be dealt this card again?“)

It’s a good thing Mom is coming home now, because it’s probably her fault I’m sick. Let’s think about this for a minute: where was my mom when I got my cellulitis infection? The Grand Canyon. Where was my mom when I thought I had another infection a few weeks ago? Yosemite. Where was my mom when I got sick this past week? Yosemite, again.

COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT! Once again, my mom has found a way to SINGLE-HANDEDLY ruin my life.

OK, I’ll stop dicking around now–I hope you all know I’m just being a brat for the sake of humor and that it’s an inside joke with my mom that was started in like, middle school.

I only mention being sick this week because, as much as it sucks, it’s kind of cool in a way that it wasn’t related to my mastectomy or reconstruction at all! It was just because I’m a normal person who can contract normal person contagions from other normal people. I’m normal, ya’ll!

It’s been one week since my tissue expander placement surgery, and I feel great! I went back to work today and spent a long day (9 am-7 pm) in the office, sans pain medicine.

I’ll recap what last week was like:

After my parents and Trisha left on Monday, I did a bit of reading and then decided to go to bed. Sleep, however, did not come very smoothly. The pain pump that had earlier been my best friend turned against me by making me itch. It wasn’t the same awful head itching I felt when my Vancomycin IV started in April. It was more of a general body itching, but enough to wake me up every twenty minutes or so.

The nurse gave me Benadryl but that didn’t seem to help, so around 3 am we made the decision to switch from my pain pump meds (not sure what these were) to the painkiller Percocet. I was finally able to fall asleep for a few hours around 4 am.

By 6:30 am, Mom was in my room. Unlike at Ronald Reagan Hospital where discharge is 11 am, the Outpatient Surgery Center discharge for the special overnighters like me is very early (at 6:37 am! That’s a joke for Mom). And sure enough, Dr. Festekjian was in the room by 7 am, ready to kick me out.

He gave me instructions for the week, such as when to take my antibiotics and when I was okay to shower. He also cut off my stylish ace bandage bandeau bra and took out my PICC line. And he even agreed to pose for a photo, since he’s a blog celebrity and all.

Even early in the morning, Dr. Festekjian looks dapper…unlike me.

I spent most of Tuesday sleeping since I got little sleep the night before. Bryce did come over and we lounged around watching movies. On Wednesday evening my friend Kim visited after she got off work. We had dinner and went on a walk. I started switching from Percocet to regular Tylenol on Wednesday.

On Thursday I worked from home. Luckily my manager Jerri is very understanding of this strange and often complicated medical situation, so she helped me create a work project that would be doable from home: scrapbooking.

That’s right, I was paid to scrapbook. I work as an Associate Editor at eHow.com, and one of our new products is called Spark. It’s sort of like a bulletin board for the web; you can clip photos and text from around the Internet onto one space. My Spark boards give instructions for creating scrapbook pages in a more visual format. You can see one I finished, How to Create Graduation Scrapbook Pages.

I also took a shower on Thursday. Aw, the first shower after surgery—pure bliss. I could have showered on Wednesday, but my PICC line bruise made me nervous, so I waited an extra day to be safe.

The bruise is horrendous. It looks like I was punched in the arm by someone very large and very angry. When I had a PICC line on my right arm in April, the bruising was minimal. When I first took a good look at this bruise, it really did freak me out. But I consulted Drs. Horn and Horn and they assured me that it was perfectly normal. And sure enough, the bruise has gone down.

Yes, I took that picture today, and yes, it does still look awful after a week. But you should see the other guy!

On Friday morning, Mom and I hopped in the car and drove up to Los Angeles to the Playboy Mansion to pick up Trisha to go shopping. This, however, was no ordinary shopping trip: we were in search of mastectomy bras and cotton breast forms! After giving Mom a quick tour of the Mansion, we headed to Miss Stevens, a lingerie store.

Mom was definitely a fan of Mr. Hefner’s digs.

Miss Stevens is a store known for its wide array of undergarments to fit unusual sizes and needs. My mom bought her mastectomy bras there and the one that I eventually wore, so no doubt the ladies there are well-versed in mastectomies. However it still felt surreal for Trisha and I to walk in–two young girls in their twenties–and ask for mastectomy bras and breast forms.

The lady at the counter did not miss a beat, and immediately shooed me to a fitting room. I further explained my situation to her, and finally unbuttoned my shirt to show the differences in size. The exact current measurements are 250 ccs of saline in the left tissue expander, 550 ccs of saline in the right tissue expander.

She presented me with various options, ranging from adjustable silicone forms to small bra cup inserts. The silicone forms are always nice, but man! were they expensive. The one she showed me was at least $250! I love myself and I want to look my best, but I am not going to spend that much money just to be even-chested for a month.

I opted for two cup-like inserts. Layered one on top of the other, they give enough shape to match the 550 ccs on the right. Once I am filled up a bit more, I will only need one of the inserts. And then soon (hopefully by mid September) I’ll be even on both sides!

The inserts ended up totaling only $12; pretty good compared to the silicone option. Trisha graciously paid for my inserts as a “thank you” for taking her shopping. Her search for a mastectomy bra was a bit more difficult.

Since she has such a small frame, even the smallest sizes of the mastectomy bras would end up being too big for her after her mastectomy. Sure she could pin them to keep them tight, but that would require constant adjusting…not fun or practical!

After much debate, she ended up buying a mastectomy bra that also works as a compression bra. I think it’s Amoena #2161. My mom used the same kind after her implant exchange surgery, and I have used it too, though it can be a bit itchy so I prefer my softer mastectomy bra. But it opens in front and the stretchy fabric will stay tight on Trisha; plus it has Velcro at the bottom for drain pockets to attach.

Of course it doesn’t actually come with drain pockets, which is so bizarre to me. Drain pockets are probably the cheapest thing to manufacture; they are just little scraps of fabric with Velcro on one side! But for whatever reason, many mastectomy bras don’t actually come with them. Luckily my mother the seamstress has some ideas in mind for Trisha’s drain pockets!

On Saturday morning I drove for the first time, up to the bagel store. Later in the evening I drove all the way to Bryce’s house, which is about an hour away. I definitely favor my right side when I drive so I didn’t feel much strain.

The pain meds finally caught up to me yesterday morning. I’d been mostly taking Tylenol for pain, but sometimes at night I did take a Percocet. I ended up having a splitting headache that started around 10:30 am. I rarely get headaches that are more than just a dull pain, so this one really took me by surprise. I called Mom, almost in tears, and she told me to try to sleep it off in a dark room with a cold compress on my head. The headache was gone by 1 pm (thanks Mom!) and I am officially OFF of Percocet because that was just too painful.

It’s funny how pain medication can sometimes cause more problems than the actual pain is worth.

Today I scheduled my post-op appointment with Dr. Festekjian. I’ll be seeing him on Thursday at 3:45 pm. Hopefully he’ll give me the all-clear to start my tissue expander fills the following week!

I leave you with this picture of me this evening with the two cup inserts in: WHICH SIDE IS SMALLER THAN THE OTHER?! It’s an optical illusion oooooooohhhhoooooh! (OK cut the crap, Rachel.)

Well, it’s official: I am back on track with my breast reconstruction! My left tissue expander was placed this morning.

I spent all day yesterday chugging water; I must have consumed two gallons! I hate not being able to eat or drink after midnight the night before surgery. Since I was scheduled to receive a PICC line, I knew that drinking all of that water would make no difference for my veins. It’s just a mental thing.

But sure enough, as soon as I woke up this morning, I was thirsty. My mouth felt like the freakin’ Sahara today! Just knowing I can’t drink water makes my body trick me. Argh!

I arrived at UCLA around 7:30 am and had my PICC line placed at the radiology area of Ronald Reagan Hospital. The nurse who put in the PICC, Jessica, was very sweet and approachable. We talked the whole time she was working on my left arm, making it go by quickly. The pain was minimal, just a bit of a pinch from shots of numbing medication.

After she placed the PICC line, Jessica walked me back to the check-in area and told me what I couldn’t do with the PICC line in. The best “no-no” was scuba diving…she actually told me I couldn’t scuba dive. I laughed it off, but she said that she once had a patient go scuba diving with a PICC and it got infected. I mean, really? Come on! How thick can you get?

Needless to say, I have NO plans to scuba dive.

Mom and I walked from Ronald Reagan Hospital to the 200 building and headed up to the Outpatient Surgery Center around 8:50 am. I’m quite familiar with that area since Mom had her oopherectomy and implant-exchange surgery there in February. I checked in and was brought back to the pre-op area almost immediately.

I spent the next hour sitting in bed with my attractive blue hospital gown and hair net as nurses and doctors bombarded me with questions. “Do you have any allergies?” Sulfa. “When was your last surgery?” April 30. “Did you get a PICC line?” Yes, notice the strange tube coming out of my arm.

Finally, my best friend, the man of the hour, the genius himself Dr. Festekjian came to see me. He marked up my chest like a ninth-grader graphing in Geometry class. Symmetry is good, so he wanted to give himself the best markers for placing the tissue expander! Hey, it works for me. He’s the artist and I trust his judgment!

Next I was given some calming medication through the PICC line, and then I was wheeled back into the operating room. Things get blurry from there, but I do remember thinking that the OR was very cluttered and bright. Doctors and nurses were all around me, covering me in blankets and poking me with monitors…

And then I woke up!

That’s one happy camper! Notice my stylish bra.

I think I was out for about an hour and a half. Since my procedure was outpatient, they did not give me a pain pump. BADDDDD idea. Of my now three surgeries (initial mastectomy, tissue expander removal, and today’s tissue expander placement) this was by far the most painful! My entire left side felt very heavy and there was a lot pressure. The nurses kept giving me pain meds through the PICC line, but I was not having it.

Finally, Mom took action. “How long does she have to be a 10 out of 10 on the pain scale before she can get an order for a pain pump?” You go, Mom! As soon as she asked that, Dr. Festekjian was paged and a pain pump was installed.

Once I got the pain pump I felt infinitely better.

Dr. Festekjian has me on IV antibiotics for precautionary measures, so I’m staying overnight. My room is very small and has a stunning view of a parking lot. Unfortunately there is no bathroom in my room (unlike the rooms in the actual hospital) so I have to walk into the hall to use the bathroom, but that’s okay because I want to be as mobile as possible. Lying in bed all day can get very boring and even a bit painful.

I’ll be discharged early tomorrow morning (by 7 am) and Dr. Festekjian will send me home on oral antibiotics. If all goes smoothly, he’ll start my tissue expander fills in two weeks. I think he filled me up to 200 ccs when he placed the expander, but I have to wear my lovely ace bandage bra for a while so I can’t really tell.

Trisha came to visit me around 6:30 pm. It was so nice to see her! She brought me beautiful purple flowers. Purple is my favorite color. We chatted for about half an hour and then my parents showed up with dinner for me, so we all sat around talking for a while.

Aren’t they beautiful? Thanks, Trisha!

Talking to Trisha was great because she understands what I’m going through. Her prophylactic mastectomy is scheduled for August 15, so it’s been on her mind a lot. I must brainstorm what I can give her for a pre-surgery care package!

I look like a giant compared to Trisha, she is so petite!

Trisha and my parents left about 45 minutes ago. I’m going to try to get some sleep now since I haven’t slept much today.

Thank you all for all of your support. I really appreciate the suggestions you left on my last post for evening out my tissue expanders–I’m definitely going to try some of them out!

This coming Monday, July 30, I’ll be making the trek back up to what seems like my home away from home, UCLA Medical Center. At 8 am I am scheduled to have a PICC line placed at Ronald Reagan hospital; following the PICC line procedure, I’ll head over to the UCLA Outpatient Surgery Center in the building next door to have my tissue expander placed.

It was a bit of a hassle to get approval for the PICC line, but I’m so glad we were pushy (shout out to my mom for making it happen!) For those of you who don’t remember, I have BAD veins. They run and hide when I get within five miles of a medical facility.

When I know I am going to have my blood drawn, I prepare the day before by drinking a lot of water to pump up my veins. When I was admitted to the hospital for a cellulitis infection in late April, my veins were not prepared for needles and I was already dehydrated from being sick. When the nurses tried to draw blood, it took them three pokes (with multiple people involved) until they had success; when they tried to start IV antibiotics, it was even worse.

I ended up being poked for blood and IVs about ten times during that hospital stay because my veins would either not produce any blood or they were too fragile for the strong antibiotics. By the third day at the hospital, none of my veins were strong enough for a simple IV, so I was switched to the PICC line.

The PICC line was my savior. I never thought I would love something attached to a needle as much as I loved that PICC line.

“PICC” stands for peripherally inserted central catheter. It is a small needle attached to a port that is inserted into a deep vein (in my case, in my upper right arm). It’s then fished through to another vein close to the heart. A PICC line can stay in place for weeks without being changed, and it can be used to draw blood and to administer fluids such as antibiotics. For those of you who know my family, when my dad was at UCSF in 2010/2011 with a foot infection, he received routine antibiotic infusions through a PICC line.

Once my PICC line was inserted in April, the rest of my hospital stay was a breeze. I didn’t feel any burning from the antibiotics and no one had to poke me in the middle of the night for blood tests.

This time around, my mom and I have been adamant that I receive a PICC line from the start. I know Dr. Festekjian is going to put me on IV antibiotics as a precaution, and I know I am going to be put under anesthesia. Both of those things mean needles. Any needle poke runs the risk of infection; with my non-compliant veins and history of infection, why would I want to take any chances? PICC line, here I come!

In terms of the actual tissue expander replacement surgery, I anticipate that it will be pretty easy. It’s performed in UCLA’s outpatient building, which already makes it seem more minor. There’s a good chance I will stay in the hospital overnight just to be safe, which is fine with me. And I only plan on taking one week off from work, as opposed to the three I took after my mastectomy surgery in March.

To be honest, the biggest concern I have is what I’ll look like with my newly-inserted tissue expander. I’ve really adjusted to having my cotton prosthesis and Waterproof Falsie; they are the perfect size to match the 550 cc tissue expander on the right side! But when Dr. Festekjian puts the new tissue expander in the left side, he will probably only fill it up to about 200 ccs; tiny in comparison to the other one!

Does anyone have any suggestions for what I can do to not look lopsided? There will probably be at least one month of unevenness; I don’t expect to start my saline fills until two weeks after this surgery. And even when the fills do start, it will take a few sessions before my left tissue expander is equal to my right expander.

Okay, nothing could be more lopsided than this: tissue expander on the right side, nothing but chest wall on the left!

I’d love to hear what people think. My initial thought is to use socks or something to fill empty bra space. Anyone else have a better idea?!

I expect to post an update on Monday or Tuesday following my surgery, so be on the lookout for that. And all positive vibes and thoughts are appreciated as I get ready for Monday! Thank you. =)

Well, immediately following my previous post I lost eight pounds. I guess that will be my secret to weight loss…bitching on my blog!

I’m also happy to report that on Friday evening, Jeani told me to stop taking the Clindamycin antibiotic because the culture from my infection was only responding to the Doxcycline. This was good news because man, was that Clindamycin harsh! I know you all are completely over reading about my digestive patterns, but I’m pretty sure that the Clindamycin was what gave me such bad diarrhea.

Eating a real meal again is so wonderful! Om nom nom!

Not wanting to repeat the Crazy Drain Incident of 2012, I decided to lay low for the weekend. No walks or exercise, just hanging around the house being a lazy bum. I watched lots of movies and TV to the point that my eyes hurt. And let me tell you, all of that hard work paid off, because on Monday morning I got my drain removed!

What a great appointment. Really. Is it sad that a follow-up with Dr. Festekjian can make me so happy?

First he removed my drain. Then he removed my PICC line! AND he gave me permission to swim this summer!!! He said that my infection looked to be completely cleared up and that the following week he would remove the stitches on my left breast. He also did a fill on my right tissue expander, bringing it up to 475 ccs.

I’ve been going back and forth on the question of what to do with my right tissue expander: should I just let it be until I get my left tissue expander replaced, or should I keep getting my saline fills? What do you all think? I’m curious to get the visual on my chest’s potential size, but I don’t want to make this flat-on-one-side situation even more awkward.

I had him do a fill on Monday because the prosthetic boob I’m using on the left is too big…I want to even things out with the right side. It’s just a soft cotton-stuffed pillow shaped like one of the “chicken cutlets” you might use to add a bit of va-va-voom to your cleavage. It came in a pair with the mastectomy bra I bought before my surgery. I didn’t think I’d be needing either prosthetic…good thing I saved them!

Notice the prosthetic boob poking out there! And yes, my iPhone case is a photo of Madeline.

My graduation is on Friday. I was really on the fence about attending. When I first went back to the hospital following my infection I was pretty pissed about missing some senior events (Fountain Run, sorority formal). During that week of moping I tried to talk myself out of going to graduation, citing that I “missed everything else” so “why bother” going to graduation? Danielle brought up a good point, however: it’s my graduation. I’m never going to graduate from USC as an undergraduate again and though it might not seem like a big deal now, would I regret it in the future if I missed it?

OK, so she’s right, and she convinced me to attend my graduation. What I then had to worry about was my graduation dinner the following evening. What the hell would I wear?!

Dressing for my small boobs was hard (see Shopping for the Post-Mastectomy Patient). Dressing for a boob on the right and nothing on the left? OY VEY! Obviously I’m going to be using the prosthetic, but that still presents challenges with dressing. I need a dress that will enable me to wear a supportive bra to keep everything in place. It can’t be low-cut and it either has to have very thick straps or it has to be tight for a strapless bra.

After visiting what seemed like every store at the Camarillo outlets, I finally walked into J.Crew and found heaven in the form of a pink strapless dress. It’s tight enough to support a strapless bra and a prosthetic, and the fabric is thick enough to hide awkward lines or lumps from that bra combination. I feel like a ballerina when I wear it because of the color!

Hey…wait a minute…I thought you were missing a boob?!

So now it seems that things have calmed down around here. Having my tissue expander removed last week really felt like it would be the end of the world–at least the end of MY world. I was dreading summer, especially living in Southern California. But now I realize that hey, it’s just one summer. One Ugly Summer. I can deal.

Now, for all those who are wondering what I ACTUALLY look like, sans prosthetic…here are some fun pictures! Isn’t my bra great? Freakin’ optical illusion.

I’ve been home from the hospital since Wednesday afternoon, with one Jackson-Pratt drain, two antibiotics (recently reduced to one), and no left breast or tissue expander.

Let me first say that I am the only person in history who would gain three pounds from no eating and constant diarrhea while cooped up in the hospital. After what felt like hours of hearing my father’s loud chorus of, “You’re going to lose weight in the hospital! You’re going to drop lots of pounds!” I almost started to believe him. He, in fact, does lose immense amounts of weight when he’s in the hospital. Considering my recent hospitalization was very much like his last few (intense IVs of antibiotics and barely eating), he almost had me sold.

Expecting that one silver lining from this hospital stay, I excitedly hopped on the scale on Wednesday…and NOPE. LET’S ADD ON THE POUNDS INSTEAD. MAMA NEEDS A NEW LAP BAND!

(For those of you who don’t like sarcasm, leave now.)

I am slightly depressed by this. But I am even more depressed by the fact that I can’t eat anything. I mean, if I’m going to be fat, I might as well enjoy the process of it, you know? Okay, that’s not true. I can eat everything in sight (of which there is plenty of sight.) But I am NOT because of what happens fifteen minutes after I eat. Let’s just say, what goes in, goes out really really fast because the antibiotics I am on have killed off the good bacteria in my system. Eating is not fun at all and is inconvenient unless I am basically sitting on the toilet.

My mom and dad have been pushing probiotics (apparently these have helped Dad with a similar problem) but Dr. Festekjian’s team want me to hold off on those. They want me to try the BRAT diet first: Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast.

Check out the picture that comes up on the Wikipedia page for the BRAT diet (hahaha when I first wrote this, without proofreading, I accidentally wrote “BRAT die”!):

Well that all looks disgusting. Seriously. Let’s take the most bland, ugly foods we can find and throw them together to make a cute little acronym that describes the annoying and spoiled patients who need to eat this crap!

The thing about the BRAT diet, I’m learning, is that it’s not actually limited to BRAT. Jeani said I should just try to eat this gross stuff with other stuff: like, eating a sandwich with bread…or eating rice with some chicken (not happening.) The banana-in-a-smoothie suggestion didn’t make me want to vomit, so I think I might try that.

In other news, my left breast is still missing. Dr. Karam, my very kind and caring breast surgeon, sent me a nice email about an hour ago to see how I was doing. Since I’ve had a heavy helping of the BITCH diet, I sent him a rather cheeky response that included the following lines regarding my appearance:

“On the left, I look like a nine-year-old boy who was once very, very fat but then lost a great deal of weight in a very short amount of time. On the right, I actually look normal. HA. This tissue expander breast is now what I consider normal.”

On the way to the bathroom or kitchen I almost always catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, usually hoping that this time there is actually a boob there. Instead of a boob, however, I’ve noticed that my rib cage and stomach are now officially bigger than my chest, a fear I’ve had for many years.

I can hear Madeline playing with her squeaky ball quite viciously in the living room. I’m going to go ask her if she’d like to play with my brain instead.

Hi everyone. I apologize for not writing in a few days. While it’s true that I am insanely bored at the hospital, by the time I actually have a free moment to sit down and type out a blog post, I am usually exhausted and my eyes hurt too much so I nap instead. This one, however, is going to be exceptionally long. Get ready!

The last time I posted was Friday morning. My IV port had to be changed again since the Vancomycin beat up the first one too much. A new IV was put into my right hand.

Around noon I had an ultrasound on my left breast to check for fluid pockets. Images from the ultrasound revealed that there was one big pocket (I think about 5 cms) and possibly two smaller pockets. A few hours later, I was taken back to radiology to have that pocket aspirated. The radiologists inserted Lidocaine into the area to numb it up then used an ultrasound to locate the exact location of the fluid pocket. They then inserted a big ol’ needle into the area to extract it. In reality, the needle wasn’t very big at all, but since the ultrasound video magnified it it seemed like an eight-inch needle was poking around my body.

The fluid from this pocket was sent for a gram stain and a culture. The initial gram stain did not reveal any bacteria; however the culture could still grow into something after a few days.

When I returned from the aspiration, I noticed that the infection seemed to have spread around my breast. It all seemed very red. I was nervous. Friday was a very emotional day for me; I spent a lot of time crying and wallowing in self-pity.

My parents finally found out I was in the hospital on Friday evening. They had been on a road trip to the Grand Canyon since Tuesday April 24. I did NOT want to ruin their vacation by telling them about my hospitalization. I know, I know…I’ve heard from plenty of moms that it wasn’t MY choice if my parents wanted to come back early, and that parents want to know everything no matter the circumstances. But honestly, my family has had really bad luck when it comes to family illnesses and vacations and they deserved to see the Grand Canyon. Plus, I knew that my parents were planning to head up to our house in Yosemite after visiting the Grand Canyon. I wasn’t overly fussed about them not missing the Yosemite portion of the trip, since they can go up north another time. Instead of leaving Barstow to head north on Saturday morning, they stayed south to get into Los Angeles.

By noon on Saturday they were at the hospital. It was nice having them there, because they are medical-savvy and know how to talk to doctors. Having been through her own double mastectomy, my mom is familiar with the terms, processes, and side-effects. My dad, on the other hand (or should I say “foot”…wait for it!) , spent quite a few months in and out of UCSF in 2011 due to an infection on his feet. He had an IV of Vancomycin, too.

My friend Kaitlin stopped by the hospital on Saturday afternoon. It was such a pleasant surprise. She brought with her a book and an adorable little stuffed animal elephant. I immediately latched onto the fluffy gray creature. His name is Kapow and he’s my lucky elephant.

Kapow transfers some of his luck to me, trunk to nose.

On Sunday my infection did look better, and my veins were feeling even worse. The Vancomycin is so harsh that it burns my veins. Every time a drop went through the IV port on my hand, I could feel it sting. We had to take that IV port out. A transport nurse tried to place another IV; he poked me one more time and it still didn’t work. At that point, he made it clear that I couldn’t be poked anymore because the risk of infection was too high. If they wanted to put in any more antibiotics or draw anymore blood, I would need a PICC line, but the staff members who put in PICCs don’t work on the weekends.

Dr. Galanis, the Chief Plastics Resident at UCLA, came by to say that he was putting me on an oral antibiotic for the day and night and that I should be prepared to go into surgery on Monday morning, which meant no eating or drinking after midnight. Nothing was for sure yet, but the fact that my infection was getting worse was an obvious bad sign. If you want to see what the infection looked like before my surgery, please email me. It’s not a pretty pic, but I’m happy to send it to you if you think you have an infection.

It was very relaxing not being connected to an IV at all on Sunday. I could shower and actually use both hands (during the first shower I had a plastic glove over my hand to protect the IV) and I could move around without worrying about accidentally pulling out the IV. I spent a lot of Sunday reading the book Kaitlin brought over, calledBitter Is the New Black by Jen Lancaster. It was a quick and somewhat mindless read about a former sorority girl turned business exec turned unemployed mess. I breezed through the entire book in one day, and was pleased by the happy ending, in which the writer gets a book deal! (Oh please let that be MY happy ending!)

On Sunday at midnight I started my eating and drinking fast. Not eating was easy. The heavy antibiotics have temporarily killed my taste buds and ruined my digestive system; whatever I eat comes out the other end pretty quickly. That doesn’t give me much incentive to eat. Drinking, however, is difficult; since I’m so used to being poked for veins, my natural reaction is to drink as much water as possible in order to plump them up. But I had to avoid the water so I wouldn’t be sick if I needed anesthesia.

On Monday morning my parents came over early, as did members of Dr. Festekjian’s team (Dr. Galanis included). They said it was highly likely that I would have the tissue expander removed, but they would leave the ultimate decision to Dr. Festekjian. He came in about an hour later and told me it would have to go because we were “fighting a losing battle.” At that point, I didn’t care anymore. I had read online about many women who stayed on some awful antibiotics for weeks, suffering the side effects, only to have to remove the tissue expander anyway.

Around 11 am I had a PICC line installed. A PICC line is a central venous catheter, a more permanent form of an IV; it goes through the arm and hooks up with a major blood vein near the heart. It can withstand the beatings from tough drugs like Vancomycin, and it can also be used to draw blood. While I’m here, I’ll never have to be poked again! Whoohoo!

Around 1 pm I was taken down to the OR to have my tissue expander removed. I woke up later in the recovery room and demanded ice. Whatever anesthesia they give me at UCLA is great; I am never nauseous after waking up and can guzzle water like it’s my job.

I was moved back up to my room about half an hour later. Someone from Dr. Festekjian’s team (I was still kind of out of it so I don’t remember who) came by to tell me that they had found some additional spots of infection near the tissue expander. They are culturing those right now.

In order to give me some nourishment, I’ve been hooked up to an IV drip since yesterday. There was also a drip for pain meds.

I felt fine when I woke up today. In the afternoon Dr. Galanis took a peek at my left breast (or total lack thereof at this point!) and said it was still red but it looked better. I have only seen the top of it through the tight bandage; it looks like a wrinkly skin crater. Ewwwww.

My parents visited in the morning, and then I was surprised by two friends from work, Garineh and Mia. They came with a card signed by everyone who sits around my desk and a Jamba Juice…perfect! Jamba Juice is the only food I’ve been eating. About an hour before they arrived, some beautiful yellow flowers were also delivered from my team at Demand Media.

Mia (on the left) and Garineh (right) came to visit me from work! Please note my lovely halter bra and drain. Yep, I have another drain.

And now I am going to tell you all the highlight of today…drumroll please…

I got to see a doggy!!!! After hounding (bahaha) the UCLA People Animal Connection for three days, we were finally successful in getting a real live dog to visit me. His name is Scout and he’s 10 1/2 years old. He’s a German Shepard mix and he is so sweet. He sat on my bed and let me pet him for half an hour. His owner, Beth, told me about the strict requirements for volunteer dogs. It was very impressive–she should be proud that her dog was accepted at UCLA!

Scout was so friendly!

I hope that I can continue to bother the People Animal Connection in order to receive visits from more of my four-legged friends. Animals brighten my day so much. I must figure out a way to sneak Madeline inside. Let me know if you have any ideas! Now off to bed.

Yesterday I went to my 3 pm tissue expander fill at Dr. Festekjian’s office, which I was pretty sure would not actually be a fill since my left breast looked so swollen and red. Maria looked at it and agreed that Dr. Festekjian should definitely check it out. He came in, asked me about the time frame of what happened (I slept on my tissue expanders on Saturday night, felt pain on Sunday morning, etc.), and then examined the area. He then looked at me and said, “You have to go to the hospital.”

For a second there I wasn’t sure if he was trying to like, joke with me or something. I just kind of stared at him. He didn’t ask any questions or do any tests, just–“hospital!”

Then I started to get pretty upset. He mentioned the word “cellulitis” and said that I needed to get an IV with some heavy antibiotics. I asked him how often he sees this; he said each year, typically three or four patients will have cellulitis after a mastectomy…which is out of about 140 mastectomy patients. SWEET. Of course it would happen to me, the “young and healthy” patient.

He said he would take care of the arrangements to get me admitted next door at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center (the hospital portion). After about 15 minutes, Maria came into the room and told me they were ready for me at admissions.

Now it’s lucky, I guess, that I am constantly driving from home to home (my apartment, my parents’ place, Bryce’s house) and half of my life is in my car. We walked down there and I was able to grab my laptop and charger as well as some clean clothes. The car itself presented a new problem: what was I supposed to do with it? UCLA is not very flexible with their patients when it comes to parking. Maria said I could leave my car there overnight, but unless someone took it out of the parking garage, went back in to get a new ticket, and parked in a new spot, I would get a parking ticket. Luckily my friend Kate said she’d help figure out the parking situation.

As we walked over to the hospital, I asked Maria what the next few days would be like. She said I should expect to be at the hospital for the entire weekend since Dr. Festekjian would be the one to make the ultimate decision to discharge me. She explained that over the course of the next few days, I would be given an IV drip of antibiotics in order to try to fight a broad range of bacteria (cellulitis, I’ve since learned, is just the name for a general bacterial skin infection.) If the antibiotics work successfully, the area will be monitored and given a few weeks to rest before my tissue expander fills continue.

If the antibiotics don’t work…well, this is the fun part of which I am really terrified: the tissue expander will be removed for at least two or three months.

I think we can all agree that the latter option sounds awful. Given those two choices, I definitely support the IV antibiotics route! (Though it’s not like I have an actual say in this…what Festekjian wants, Festekjian gets.)

Around 4:15 pm I completed admissions papers at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. I was finally assigned a room on the sixth floor (6347 West) around 5:00 pm. There’s a view of UCLA’s football field, and I can see the helipad–pretty cool.

To the left is the UCLA football field; to the top right is the helipad.

For the next few hours, I sat around…doing nothing. My lovely roomie Danielle showed up around 6 pm with salads and GIANT chocolate chip cookies. I was ravenous, and that meal hit the spot!

Someone came in to draw blood around 6:30 pm. FAIL. My veins are awful, I know. Everyone tells me how nonexistent they are. In the past, however, I’ve never actually had a problem getting blood drawn. He stabbed my left arm and a few minutes later dumped the vials into the toxic waste bin, saying “I’ll have to call in someone else.” He hadn’t gotten any blood!

I started chugging water. This was my first “surprise” blood test; usually I know it’s coming so I drink a lot of water the day before and morning of in order to plump up my veins.

Another woman came in about twenty minutes later. She continued to poke and prod me, looking for a good vein. Nope.

Bryce and his mom showed up later in the evening, which was a pleasant surprise. I had told Bryce not to worry about visiting me the first night since he was planning on spending the night at the hospital on Friday. My friend Kate, who goes to UCLA, also dropped by…with snacks and tampons! AND she was able to find a parking spot for my car–what a lifesaver!

Another phlebotomy specialist came in. He looked much more serious than the first two…he meant business! I explained that I really hated needles and would appreciate if he could apply some numbing cream before poking me. He spent a good deal of time lifting up my arms and using a tourniquet to try to find a vein. Finally he settled on a vein on the side of my left wrist. He applied the cream, and about fifteen minutes later, stuck in the needle. And…there was nothing. He poked around with the needle, trying to strike gold with a vein. NOPE.

He had to call in the big guns: an ICU nurse. Together, they poked and prodded even more. Finally, the ICU nurse (who was hilarious, by the way; a Londoner who my dad would have loved) zeroed in on a vein in the elbow crevice of my right arm. He slapped at it for a good three minutes, and as soon as it popped up again, he went for it…and there was success! We all clapped. At least not all of the efforts were in vain! (…pun…hahaha)

They took two vials of blood and also used that area for my IV port. Around 10 pm my nurse hooked up the antibiotics to the IV. Finally, treatment!

I know one of the antibiotics was Vancomycin, and boy, did it make my head itch!!! I learned online that an itching scalp is a common reaction from Vancomycin and that Benadryl should help it. My nurse injected some Benadryl into my IV, the itching stopped, and I finally got to sleep.

Members of the plastic surgery team (Maria included) woke me up bright and early at 7 am today. I don’t know when they arrived at work, but I’m still amazed at how happy and put-together they all were. Give me a break! I’m lying in bed with hair like Einstein’s from all of the itching, and then these beautiful, smiling people suddenly surround me. It was a sneak attack!

Maria checked on my left breast and said that it already looked to be improving. YES!

Cellulitis, you are EVIL. I need to do more research on the topic, but I’ve gathered the following from WebMD:

“Cellulitis is a skin infection caused by bacteria. Normally, your skin helps protect you from infection. But if you have a cut, sore, or insect bite, bacteria can get into the skin and spread to deeper tissues. If it is not treated with antibiotics, the infection can spread to the blood or lymph nodes. This can be deadly.”

“At first, the infected area will be warm, red, swollen, and tender. As the infection spreads, you may have a fever, chills, and swollen glands.”

Well, that all sounds accurate to me: I had a major surgery involving a cut, the area is definitely red and swollen, and I really started to feel sick when I developed a fever.

Today I will have an ultrasound of my left breast to make sure there isn’t any fluid buildup. If there is, it will need to be drained. Fingers crossed there’s no fluid!

Well, that’s it for now. My nurse just started another IV drip. Check back for more updates on Cellulitis 2012!

Hi, I'm Rachel, your average twentysomething. I'm in a sorority, I just graduated from college and started my first full-time job, and oh yeah, I recently had a double mastectomy! Welcome to my world of BRCA genes, plastic surgery, and snap-in-front bras.

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